Пропавший в бездне Lost in the Abyss
by Whyntir
Summary: Years have gone and Ivan is nothing more than a tool for Feliks. Slowly, he wakens from his dark entrancement only to find he has to correct they way of things. Continuation of Падающие звезды Raining Stars. Can Ivan correct the past or die in its stain?
1. Terms

_The words reached him in garbled unison. Almost like a ripple, but they all came too fast that only the last was the only one noted. How long had he been in this dark place, why was he here? A voice echoed to him in the far off distance. It was angry and shouting, he never liked it that way. Still, only the last word reached him._

"_IVAN . . . - Ivan . . . - Van . . . - van . . . – an . . ."_

_Another voice, one his faint mind told him to loathe spoke next._

"_WEAPON . . . -Weapon . . . -Eapon . . . -eapon . . . -pon . . ."_

_Ivan . . . Weapon . . . Ivan . . . Weapon. He was a weapon. He was the trump card of the Polish-Lithuanian Empire. And all against his own will. This was his will, buried down in this darkness and looking, scouring, for the faintest point of light. He didn't know when, or how, or even why, but he saw it once; the smallest of holes in his utter darkness. It illuminated his pain and thawed out his frozen mind. He could think like himself again, understand his fears. He had felt this way once before:_

* * *

"_**When you tease people, hurt them, it scars their minds more than their bodies. It is much more painful to have those scars on the mind, because they never seem to fully close. Just the slightest prodding and they tear back open even wider than before. It torments them even in their subconscious and runs deeper than the bones, than a sword through the heart. Do you understand any of this Ivan?"**_

* * *

_He looked up to the wavering light, "I do understand!" he screamed as loud as he could, praying the man who told him this would hear someday. Then the light flickered out as a flame in the snows. The darkness returned._

* * *

_He found the light again, but how much later he didn't know. It was in a new place, but just as small. He ran to the light and looked into the brilliance of it. The first was realization. Now that he knew and understood himself a little better, it was time for acceptance._

* * *

"_**Germany is going to attack you! You have to believe me!" the Prussian soldier pleaded to the nation as the albino stared down with a darkening expression. His violet eyes dead though the body still breathed in the cold night.**_

_**He raised the pipe above his head, a present from Germany's garden while making the Non-Aggression Pact. The man screamed as the metal came down upon him, "LIAR!"A sickening crack echoed in Russia's numbed mind as he contacted flesh a bone; he had smashed the soldier's head clean open. Still, with tears of grief and rage filling his eyes, he continued to beat the body as blood splattered the walls and his clothes.**_

"_**WHY! WHY WOULD YOU LIE! YOU LIAR! LIAR! LIIIIAAAR!" he screamed before collapsing to his knees in the puddle of blood, the childish smile on his face as tears streamed from his left eye, "It's not nice to lie you know."**_

* * *

_He backed away from the light and it began to flicker in like. Frightened of the dark, he stepped back in to face his sins. The light became brighter, bigger._

* * *

_**The whip cracked down once more on Lithuania's bare back as he sobbed in chains. He screamed as the glass cut over older wounds that were still in the process of repair. Ivan had a small, childish, sad smile on his face as he pulled back and dropped it for a second.**_

"_**Why would you leave Torris? You know I don't like hurting you, but why would you leave me to go with America? I've been so lenient to your transgressions and you do this to me? Why? I don't understand," the leather came down again at the last word.**_

_**Lithuania screamed in agony before quieting himself to a reasonable point, "I-I'm sorry Mister Russia. Pl-please. Please forgive me!"**_

"_**Only if you promise," he said kneeling down behind him, a gloved hand snaking around to the prisoner's face and stroking softly. He leaned down further and licked a dark drop of thick blood, "Never to leave me again."**_

* * *

_He cowered slightly, the pain of it being felt on his mind. He hadn't just hurt those people in his other life . . ._

* * *

"_**You do not work good. Not a good Communist at all. You're useless to our people. You've failed your family," he said with a sad smile, "He is to die."**_

"_**NO!" the man screamed as the Secret Police grabbed him, "NO! PLEASE! I HAVE A FAMILY TO FEED! MY WIFE IS GOING TO HAVE THE BABY ANY DAY NOW! YOU CAN'T LEAVE THEM LIKE THIS, WHITHOUT A HUSBAND!"**_

"_**A husband that can't be a good communist, mustn't be a good father, da?"**_

* * *

_He hadn't just scarred them, their families and friends . . ._

* * *

"_**BRING US THE CZAR! THIS NATION HAS GONE MAD!"**_

"_**FREEDOM AND HIGHER WAGES!"**_

"_**THINK OF OUR SUFFERAGE!"**_

_**The peasants lined the way to the palace; Ivan gazed dejectedly out the window at the citizens. The Czar was out having tea, Toris came and informed him; always so helpful, what would Russia do without the smaller country? Still, the insults were hurled, panic began to rise inside his gut. Had he worked so hard just for this? Made his people strong and a force to be reckoned with just so they could rip him down and destroy the world he had made for them. His children . . . so ungrateful and violent, no weapons; but the words hurt more than anything in the world could.**_

"_**Why does it always end up like this . . . ? I finally made this nation stronger and more prestigious than others by myself. I worked so hard . . . why is it nothing goes right . . . ? Why do they always end up hating me?" The words strangled him, his throat, his heart; he was suffocating from the inside. Lithuania stayed silent, not sure where to go from that statement. Tears broke from Russia's eyes, the pain mangling him, how was he to live through this. "Everyone says it's my fault. **_**MY **_**fault. I've endured it for centuries . . . Why can't everyone just get along nicely with each other . . .?"**_

_**What happened next, he didn't know. The second afterwards, he came up with a solution to it all, a fix for all the hate. Hate stemmed from these people who shouted insults to him, threatened to destroy him. If you know you'll be killed, kill them first.**_

_**He threw open the window with a shaky smile, "Lithuania?"**_

"_**I-Ivan!"**_

"_**We don't want children . . ." his voice changed from moderately deep to that of a small child, a rifle resting in his grasp, "who can't play nice . . . right?"**_

* * *

_He had scarred himself._

_The light grew to a blinding state. It pushed away the darkness and the endless waves of agony and helplessness. He was waking up to whatever lay aged, but could he do what he knew he must?_

* * *

**No one can rewrite history, but we all have a chance to change the future.**


	2. Awakening

**A/N: OMFG! I AM SOOO SORRY~! I started summer school a few weeks ago and was banished from the computer so I couldn't type! PLEASE FORGIVE MEH! I love you all, please Review and I'll keep updating! LOVE YOU!**

* * *

Prussia looked at the picture of himself and the little boy he had taken care of so very long ago. It was in front of the little cottage he had found with the sunflowers smiling behind them. The smile on the child's face was brilliant and endearing, but that boy no longer existed. After Poland had opened the box of dark memories, Russia had run off and suffered extreme traumatic shock. He receded into the subconscious and just did everything Poland told him to.

* * *

"_Look at the Camera Ivan," he coaxed pointing to the machine. Ivan turned and smiled as the flash dazzled Gilbert senseless. He blinked repeatedly as stars danced across his vision. The Russian boy laughed hysterically._

"_Do you know why they tell you to smile Mama?" he asked playfully as sight began to return to the albino man, "Because then the light bounces back~!"_

_The idea was so rediculous, it might be true._

Gilbert sighed and finally allowed himself to turn the picture face down on the nightstand. That had been thirty-seven years ago. There was no longer any place for hope to rest in his heart. The child he had cared for, the man he loved, was dead. All that was left was the moving corpse.

* * *

America held his pillow to his chest as he did every night he prepared for bed. Slowly, he let himself fall on his side as he cradled the make-shift body. If he closed his eyes and thought really hard, he could smell the strong scent that was nothing less than Russia. The platinum, almost white locks of hair and the amethyst eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light of the night. He could feel the odd chill of his body, the counteracting warmth of his skin.

He sighed and let himself come back from the dreams he had lived with ever since the Cold Wars. But the only chance he had was dashed by Poland. That bastard. He groaned inwardly to himself. That was Eighty-three years ago.

* * *

Lithuania slept in the large bed, Feliks behind him, his arms wrapped tight around his waist. Did he hear something: a little voice or a cry? Probably not, he had dreamed them up so many times before. How long was it now? 124 years since Ivan was full of so much promise. There it was again. He woke up and waited. He heard shuffling down the hall. Carefully, he slipped out of the blonde's grasp and made his way out the room.

"Adalwin," a little voice called perplexed, "Come here boy."

Toris looked over the edge to see Ivan in full dress looking around. The brunet gripped the rail in utter surprise. Was he really back, or was he just dreaming? Softly he put a test to use, "Ivan?" his voice barely above a whisper.

The Russian looked up in shock before relaxing and smiling a little, "Toris. Where's Adalwin?"

"He died. A long, long time ago."

Disbelief first swept over his features, then acceptance, then grief. The white haired young man slumped on the couch and buried his face into his hands and cried. How long had it been? His best friend had died? How did it feel like to die all alone? He felt the Lithuanian's hand on his back rubbing smooth circles. Toris, too, was in utter shock with tears streaming down his cheeks, but tears of a different sort. He cupped Ivan's face and pulled his gaze up so he could look into the eyes. They were so full of life again. Bright and shining as when he was a child.

He kneeled down and looked into the deep violet orbs. He was back, Ivan was back. He unexpectedly threw his arms around the Russian who was utterly surprised by the action. "You're here, finally. You're back."

"H-how long was I gone?"

"A century, a score, and four years. It's been so long Ivan," the brunet murmured against his shoulder.

A hundred and twenty-four years since he had been conscious of his actions? It was unbelievable. So long was an understatement for the country whom had been alive for a mere six years before the incident. How could he have gone on so long? He felt old, but new. Beaten yet proud. He could remember the days when he had been alive for centuries. He felt very tired, though he had literally and figuratively just woke up. Still, he felt the need to do something.

He embraced Lithuania in a deep hug and stood, taking the shorter man in his arms and off the ground. Toris still cared. The brunet was swept up in the hug; he felt his face flush in happiness. Even if Russia wasn't as tall as before, he was just as strong and only slightly shorter. Almost with despair he felt his feet touch the floor. Ivan smiled and looked into his eyes "I have to go see Gilbert. I'll be back later."

"Be careful," he whispered the words as a finger trailed over the pale white skin of the albino's cheek.

* * *

Gilbert heard a knock on his bedroom (also called Ludwig's basement) door. First off, it was five in the fricken morning! Second off . . . HOW DID THEY GET IN THE HOUSE! No way was Ludwig up at this hour, and he hadn't heard the door bell. If they wanted him and was actually civil enough to knock on his bedroom door, however, they obviously weren't thieves. The knock came again, with a groan, the Prussian dragged himself out of bed in nothing but his boxers and a tank top. This better be good. He rubbed his eyes with a yawn before he actually reached the door. The knock came one last time. Sheesh, it wasn't in his head. He opened the door, "_Ja_- . . . . _Mein Gott_ . . ." he whispered to himself as he saw the young man on the other side.

"_Privet_ Gilbert, I'm sorry to wake you so early. I-I just had to come see you." Ivan looked down at his hands and smiled sheepishly.

". . . . . _Mein Gott _. . . ."

Russia giggled. The red eyed man stared a little while longer before hugging him close, tears of joy in his eyes. Ivan was back. He was finally here. After so many lonely, cold years, he was finally here.

* * *

Tomorrow was the World meeting being hosted in France.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I'll be writing off and on, yes, I have been working a little on everything when I get the chance, but it is becoming increasingly harder to multitask. I hope you don't mind the lil fluff. And I actually placed the death of Russia some time in the future . . . like 2069(ish) and the 124 years later would be . . . 2193 . . . Ish. So yeah. Hopefully this DOESN'T become true. Then I'd have to hate Poland forever and ever after death. XD Anyway, I AM BACK!(ish) Ooh~ A World Meeting IN France~! I knew he was lewd buuut . . . XD Over rated joke! Please Review~**


	3. You and I Against the World

**A/N: I HAVE RETURNED! I also want to apologize for how long this is taking. For short chapters, it's been FOREVER!**

* * *

America walked down the halls of the International Consulate in Paris. He was on time, oddly enough. Though it wasn't to draw the pictures, England could keep that job. Maybe to just walk around, he had been doing that frequently. It was nice to just walk. The sweet thought of abandoning of his duties was always there. He couldn't remember the last time he was in good shape anymore. Obama had just kept piling and piling the debt in 2010, but it wasn't a surprise when they voted him out in 2012 because of all the stupid shit he did, like the immigration laws of Arizona and the bullshit of his 'racist' campaign that, for some reason, didn't reach those Black Supremacists. After that, things just seemed to get worse. He never thought he'd miss the past so much as he did all those years under incompetent presidents who only made the issue worse, like pouring 99% proof liquor on a gaping wound. He was getting better though; still, he missed Roosevelt and the reforms, WWII and the hope of a way out.

Hell, he even missed the Cold War, where he had something to keep his mind off of himself. Russia was the best opponent he had ever had, sticking it out up to 1990. He regretted the stupid decisions; his meeting with Ivan in the sunflower field of Kansas was one thing he could never seem to shake. So egotistical, so disgustingly obnoxious, and so very long ago. What year was it? Oh hell, he could barely remember the young days. 2000 was such a long time ago. Then there was the year 2100, which had been a big fiasco that everyone celebrated another year. While the people were young and vibrant, it was just a time to recall that he was getting old. Too old. He must feel like Japan, having lived all those years . . . or Russia. But he was young now, reborn and able to start over in a world that was so dangerous. Then Poland fucked him up real bad. He was a doll, an empty shell. Fucking Polish bastard. If he was here, he'd, he'd-.

The hall suddenly became dark and Alfred gasped in shocked surprise. It wasn't natural; he could feel heat over his eyes and behind him. Someone was holding him in place, but he wasn't in the mood for games. He growled a warning, "Okay, whoever you are, remove your hands from my eyes or I shall promptly remove your arms from their sockets."

"Alfred," they chided in a sweet tone that was so close, yet more sane to one he heard a very, very long time ago, "That is no way to welcome me back."

* * *

Poland was pissed off. Where had Ivan gone! He needed someone to watch the house and Liet said he had no idea where the massive puppet went. How can you miss that large fucking body! Still, everyone was here, so no need to keep Liet there. Wherever Ivan was, no one would know. He only listened to Feliks now anyway. He wouldn't be here. Not a thing to worry about.

The meeting was starting, so the Polish man hurried down the halls in his miniskirt and midriff. He sighed and opened the doors. Whatever; wasn't the first time he was late. He quickly stepped into the room with an impish smile on his face, "Sorry everyone, I got here as soon as I could. Whoever was talking, carry on."

"Thank you Feliks," a sickly sweet voice seeped through the air. Poland's eyes opened in utter shock. At the head of the table was Ivan, wearing his scarf and that long ankle length trench coat. He smiled coldly at him, his violet eyes burning in hatred. "I was actually hoping you'd arrive soon. I wanted you most of all to hear this."

"Bu-bu-bu-, H-h-how . . . ?"

Alfred smirked, "Why don't you sit down to hear what he says?"

Lithuania stepped over to his frozen partner and guided him to their seats. Once settled, Ivan began, "As I was saying before we were interrupted, I have regained all my memories from my past life and I deeply apologize for what I have done to you all at one time or another. I never really understood what I was doing was hurting you more than I intended, and now I am to reform."

America beamed. Russia was being fluent in his speech, covering all bases, but he knew the bomb that was to be dropped would set the whole room into flames. He would support Ivan as the older nation had done for him during his early years of independence.

"With all that said, I wish to inform you-."

* * *

"_Will you help me Alfred? I know Germany is financially under Poland, and Lithuania can't really be pushed into a rock and a hard place, so I won't expect more out of them, though I know they'd try to help me if I asked. You are the most powerful world power as of right now due to the riots my people are hosting in Poland's conquered lands, so I need you."_

* * *

"After this long time being under the oppressive rule of the Polish Empire-."

* * *

"_You can bet on it Ivan, just like you helped me in my time of need. Whatever the outcome, I'll be standing with you. Even if the whole of the world points their missiles at us, it'll be you and me again buddy: The two most powerful powers of the world."_

* * *

"And due to the civil unrest of all those of Russian descent who are now under governmental restrictions and denied several basic freedoms-."

* * *

"_Da Alfred, you and I against the world."_

* * *

"Those being the Right of Press, Right of Assembly, Right of voting, and even the Right of Freedom of Religion-."

The room stood still.

"As the country of Russia, I declare Independence of the Polish Empire and that all lands of Russian heritage are to be returned at once. If these demands are not met, the country of the Free People's Republic of Soviet Russia will declare war upon the Polish Empire."

Feliks' mouth hung open on loose hinges. What the hell was going on! Russia was declaring independence! Not only that, he demanded that ALL lands be returned or he'd declare war! This was preposterous! He stood up and slammed his hands down upon the table, "This is, like, unacceptable! The Polish Empire will, like, never acknowledge this totally stupid declaration!"

Ivan smiled that creepy smile he had all those years ago, "Then this means war, da?"

Alfred stood up, his childish vigor reborn, "If the Republic of Soviet Russia is declaring war, the United States will back it all the way!"

The blond felt sweat trickling down the back of his neck, but he remained as composed as he could. He could feel his eye twitch in annoyance as well as a degree of fright. America and Russia together, that would be a match alright, and not one he had confidence in. But he did have good relations with the other countries though.

"Then it is, like, totally decided!" the polish man announced, "The Polish Empire has now, like, totally declared war on the People's Republic of Soviet Russia and the United States of America!" As it was finished, Poland grabbed Lithuania and dragged him out of the room. There would be no more discussing the fact.

* * *

"West, you have to help Ivan! Please, do it for your older _bruder_!" he pleaded urgently. He was trying to keep a form of dignity with Ludwig, but he could break down in tears if he needed to.

The blonde sighed sadly, "Gilbert, you know I'd do it if I could, but Poland has a strong hold over our imports of energy and our government in general. This is out of my hands East, our boss has said we are to aid Poland."

* * *

Feliks took a shot of vodka in one gulp, his nerves grating ever so slightly. He had to think rationally and calm down. Germany was tightly under his hold. He had even gotten a phone call from Ludwig confirming his alliance. Thank god! He spent an hour in the empty church praising God for his mercifulness. With Germany came Austria and Italy, and with Austria was Hungary. The phone rang at his desk. His hand slammed down on it and the speaker activated. "_Tak? Feliks_."

"_Ni hao Feliks. This is Yao."_

The blonde sat up quickly, "Ah, Yao. It's good to hear from you . . . I hope . . ."

"_Yes. My boss has decided to help you, but only for a fee. He wants one million Euros worth of energy for half the price,"_ the voice sounded a little smug, as though he didn't thin the exchange would happen.

Normally, Feliks would have laughed at the demand, but he was willing to bargain, "One quarter off, that's all I can promise. The energy will be needed in the war, and money is a must nowadays. You understand."

There was some indistinct chatter on the other end, but then the Chinese man's voice came back, _"My boss has agreed to the terms. I'll help you in this war."_ He sounded dejected now. Ah, who cared? Poland had another ally, so how he was on his way to victory before the battle even started.

* * *

Japan stared at the phone with a frown. He liked America-kun, but why would he align himself with that zombie of a demon Russia? There is no way someone like _HIM_ could change. Not even in a new life. America-kun was simply confused. He picked up the phone and dialed.

"_Tak. Feliks."_

"I want to help you against Russia-san, but I want complete assurance that America-kun will not be harmed."

* * *

Ivan looked out into the dark night. Thick clouds covered over the sky and the moon was stranded in the Earth's shadow. It was so unnervingly dark, much like it had been when trapped as a prisoner within his own mind. He felt anxious, worried, and almost sick to his stomach as he gazed out into the deepening shadows. He was in the old cottage. He felt so alone for the first time since his rebirth. Before, everyone had cared about him. Now, everyone would be against him. A part of him even wanted to tell Alfred to stay away, so as to keep him safe. It'll be just the two of them with the world aiming their guns. Can the two of them really pull this off?

'_Da, I can achieve anything. These are my children. This is my home. This will be the declaration of my sovereignty over what is rightfully mine. I will tear down the Polish Empire with these two hands and once again set myself upon the icy throne I once possessed above the world.'_

In the falling darkness, he could only recall the dark years he spent alone, reflecting his horrid deeds. All light was gone. The stars were asleep under their blanket of clouds. And now the whole world was lost in his abyss.

* * *

**A/N: The reason this took so long was because of the dreaded writer's block I couldn't get pass. Obviously, I'M THROUGH IT! Whoot! I'm basing this on one picture I have on my thumb drive with America and Russia in the middle of a circle with the countries on the outside all pointing guns at them and – for once – not at each other. I hope you enjoyed. The updates will still be sluggish due to school, but thank you for reading~!**


	4. Deja Vu

Russia sat in a large chair as he watched America pace across the carpets. They were in his Virginia home, trying to figure what resources Poland had at his disposal. Obviously, the countries of Europe and Asia were not on their side. They had people who relied on the Polish Empire and their governments had bad pasts with Russia. Most, if not all, would do anything to keep Russia from reclaiming land.

On the other hand, ever since the declaration of war, the news was poisoned with revolt upon revolt from the Polish occupied Russia. More groups were formed and, as of right now, Russia was able to telegraph information into the thick of Siberia. The different factions were planning on meeting in Okhotsk on the shore of Siberia leading to the sea named after it. It was fairly remote and neither had a fear of the Asian countries becoming involved in this primarily European spat. One thing Alfred didn't support his fellow nation on was the fact the Russian would not back away from his fool hardy plan to enter the Polish occupied Siberia. The enemy territory and he was the one element America couldn't lose. They hadn't even begun fighting, well, he hadn't. Russia was actually exchanging fire with the Poles on their eastern boarder.

Ivan had personally been on the front, but he was away for political reasons like back in World War Two, but also for minor injuries that were healing up nicely. As it was, he wouldn't need those bandages around his burned hands once he was ready to leave, be it back to the front or to Okhostk and the secret meeting. But they had much to discuss before such a time, such as the major problem of weaponry.

"So you are fighting against Poland, Germany, Italy – but we don't really need to worry about him –, and pretty much the rest of northern Europe excluding your sisters and the Nordics as we speak," America stated matter-of-factly as he finally took a seat in his chair somewhat beside Russia, turned away slightly.

"Well," the violet eyed man pet the scarf around his neck shyly, "Katyusha had to join or have her imports be turned off, and she relies too much on such things, not exporting enough of her own."

Alfred's eyebrows furrowed together as he took in this new development, "And Belarus?"

"She had to declare neutrality, but her economy is taking a dive from even that. I really feel bad for putting them in this sort of predicament. However, I refuse to have my people suffer anymore."

"Yeah, about that, you are fighting," the American sighed, "with weapons from the World Wars! How do you expect to do this! You only have a handful of T-34s and M1939s with only a dozen or so Chaikas to fight against advanced fighter JETS! YOU ARE USING BIPLANES AGAINST JETS IVAN!"

"Da, I realize that Alfred!" he snapped angrily, "And for your information, in the past two weeks we have been using them, we have only lost one out of twenty. That is more than a dozen!"

"And out of one you lost, there is only two you have been able to destroy! One by kamikaze run, the other by dropping bricks on one below your fighter. Bricks! Ivan, I haven't seen that since World War One! 1915 and we are doing the same method just under 300 years later!"

"YOU THINK I DO NOT KNOW THIS! I HAVE LIVED FAR LONGER THAN YOU AND EVEN IF I DO NOT REMEMBER A MEASLY 100 YEARS, HOW DOES THAT CHANGE MY UNDERSTANDING OF SUCH THINGS! AS FAR AS I CAN SEE, YOU, NOR YOUR PEOPLE, HAVE BEEN ABLE TO GO MUCH PAST OUR UNDERSTANDING OF BEFORE I WAS CONQUERED; HOW DOES THAT SUDDENLY MAKE YOU AN EXPERT IN MY DEALINGS IN COMBAT!" Ivan stood up, his violet eyes burning deep into Alfred's oceanic blue.

Their eyes kept contact for a long time, challenging and demanding without words. Suddenly, Alfred looked down with a sigh, "What are we doing? I'm sorry Russia, we're supposed to be allies and I'm freaking out over your tactics. You're right. And what you're doing is holding for now. I'm just . . . I'm just a little worried about you. Can we really do this?" He fell back against the cushions of his chair and swiped a hand through his hair nervously.

"Da. I'm sorry Ameri – Alfred. I'm stressed as well. Actually," he sat down in his own chair and leaned towards his ally, "I wanted to ask you if you really wanted to do this. I know your boss wasn't happy, but you were able to rally support from your people because of that liberating heart of yours. Wh-what I'm trying to say is . . . you don't have to do this."

Alfred stared at the albino Russian. He was frowning, deeply, as though he was contradicting his own feelings. He knew Ivan remembered their kiss from so long ago, though he didn't know if it mattered to him anymore, yet they were here squabbling over useless things. It didn't need discussion: Alfred needed to send arms and supplies to the European. As it was, the rest of Europe was in a mixture of scoffing disbelief or rueful admiration of the Russian spirit. None, and he could honestly say NONE, of the other countries would be this ardent as to convert any factories in their area to feed the ancient machines with the ammo and parts to bring them back to life.

Poland made a point of removing all military means from the small country that was now Russia, leaving only those in the museums. America couldn't help but smile at the thought of Feliks grinding his teeth in frustration. Still, it placed Ivan at a horrible disadvantage. It was only because Poland wanted to prove his strength that Russia wasn't being blasted off the map at this point. The blonde nation had everything; nuclear to hydrogen bombs were ready at any point. It was all a matter of pride, but also the knowledge that America was pointing his at him.

"Ivan, I know that you know I would like you to stay out of enemy territory at this point," Alfred stated calmly, looking over his glasses at the man with the added look of, 'My true feelings aren't so diplomatic'.

The Russian nodded, "Da, I know. But the meeting may not go over well without me. It happened in the Bolshevik Revolution. The rebellious White Army took up arms against the Red Army but not having a stable base of operations. The only thing they had in common was the fact that they wanted the Red Army out, but no matter how hard they wanted it, they couldn't overcome their differences and failed. I don't something so flimsy to be made again. I remember saying something way back when Alfred: 'I don't want to make the same mistakes and have it all happen over and over like a giant loop.' As such, I will do everything in my power to ensure victory."

"Right. When is this meeting?"

"To make it, I should leave the day after tomorrow. That will give me enough time to board a plane heading to Alaska and then make a short jaunt to Okhostk. By that time, your shipment of your AK-47s and F-22 Raptors should be underway, da?"

Alfred nodded, "Yeah. So this is settled then?"

"Da, very much so."

* * *

It was all a wire line: Mongolia noticed something strange happening in the remote city of Okhostk, people were gathering. Mongolia relayed the information to China who, in turn, sent it to Taiwan and, from her, Japan. When China begrudgingly proposed he take out the rebel meeting, Japan felt a surge of distrust. China had no motive besides the energy he was getting while Japan still had that bruised pride that had prodded him to join this European war.

Now he waited. He knew Russia-san would show up, just to keep the balance of power on a solid footing. It had been a while, but he caught word of an airplane jumping the Bering Straight and on its way to the defiled city. It was black with the blood of innocents.

_'Russia-san, it is about time I repay the favor of my wounded National Pride from the Russo-Japanese war.'_

* * *

Ivan had been afraid of this: As far as a common goal, they had that. The issue was what government they should pick up. Should they go along with the Free People's Republic, or make up their own. The nation, posing as a commanding officer of the Republic's army, sighed and buried his face in his hands. "This is all wrong."

"Sir?"

"We are here to find the best way for our people. The government will have to wait. This is exactly what ruined the revolts in Russia after the First World War. We all think we have something better, but there will always be faults in a government. I say let's use the foundation that's already there until a time when we can start building, da? Once America's shipment arrives, we should have little to no trouble with the Poles on the Western Front."

One of the elder men had his eyebrows furrow, "And what will happen when the rest of Europe becomes involved in the next couple of weeks?"

"By that time, America should have sent troops over as well," Ivan looked around the table at the men and women involved in this war, "Is there anything new on your reports?"

A young woman, looking at most to be thirty nodded curtly, "We have replaced the radar over the Bering Straight and we dug up an old World War Two radio and upgraded the pieces inside so we can hear any calls from Poland to Asia and vice versa. What we have found out is that Mongolia has declared neutrality on the matter, but still tips off what we are doing at any point in time. Personally, I find the country a high risk and would bring them into the war by force, but we hardly have a means of staging a Revolution."

"Also, we have picked up coded messages jumping from Mongolia, to China, to Taiwan, to Japan. The speed and progress of the messages worry me," a young man sitting beside her added. Everyone nodded his or her heads in similar distress.

Russia's eyebrows furrowed in deep concern. The information was something new alright, but unnerving. With what was going on . . .

Suddenly an alarm blared loudly, causing everyone to look up in surprise. What was going on, no one knew, but a brilliant light filtered through the high windows where the underground meeting room protruded above ground. Some feeling of deja vu hit Ivan, as though he knew this situation. He ran to the emergency lockdown switch and pulled it. Protector blinds fell over the windows, blocking out the radiating light. He could feel the harmful rays.

"EVERYONE DOWN!"

An explosion erupted, shaking the ground and causing everything to go black.


	5. Let Us Hope

**A/N: Guess what everyon! I have two weeks away from school! Prepare for the most awesome that is me! I'll be updating frequently as long as I don't get Writer's Block, but SOMETHING WILL get updated! Enjoy ch. 5 of this lil tale! The ending is already planned ^^**

* * *

Alfred slammed the doors open as he whisked his way into the room. People looked up startled, all worried chatter ceased as they watched the blonde stride angrily into the room. "What the fuck happened in Okhostk!" he proclaimed, looking to every person in the room. Silence. "I said, 'What the fuck just happened'!" he demanded once more. His ocean blue eyes darkened as though undergoing a wild storm.

A young man pulled himself out of his surprised stupor and turned to his computer, "Mr. America, it seems that a nuclear bomb just exploded over the city."

"It _seems_!" the blonde hissed dangerously through clenched teeth.

"Uh- it _has_ exploded over the city," the young man corrected, a little scared, "The route it took originated in Asahikawa."

_Japan_

Alfred marched out of the room, his eyes raging in their personal turmoil. They had been wrong; Asia was involved with this stupid war. He slammed his fist against the metal wall, punching two feet into it. God-fucking-damnit!

* * *

Feliks stared intently at the phone. Any minute now . . . Any second, right . . . _Riiii-! _He snatched the phone before the first ring finished. "Tak!"

"_Moshi moshi Poland-san. It was a direct hit upon the city. I doubt you will have much else to worry about. If, for a fact, Russia-san is dead, America-kun will have no other choice but to back down and let you resume command over what is left,"_ Japan spoke smugly. He was quite proud that he was able to win the war without having to step one foot into battle.

"_If_ Russia is dead! Shouldn't he be! It was a fucking, NUKE!" Feliks vented. He needed Russia dead.

A sigh was audible on the other end, _"I survived two atom bombs Poland-san, sot I am not one to believe in total destruction. And please do not underestimate Russia-san. If he is still alive, he may surrender from his wound, or he will continue his fool-hardy attack."_

"Then let's hope he's dead. Ivan would never surrender."

"_Hai, something we both know he won't do willingly."_

* * *

"The shipments arrived safely to Kaliningrad, Mi-."

"Any word from Okhostk?" Alfred cut in sharply from where he stood looking out the window. He knew the answer, but he still held hope. That was what he was founded on, right?

"No sir, none yet. But we are monitoring the area with satellites and all stations are open to find a signal from the city. If there is anything that _can_ still send a signal," the last words were muttered

Alfred's hands tightened into fists, "Then go back and see if there is anything yet!"

The man excused himself and hurried from the Oval Office. Not a minute later, a hand was lightly placed on his shoulder, caring yet firm.

"Alfred, I know you're worried about Russia, but there is nothing we can do."

He turned and looked down to his boss. Blue eyes met brown as they gazed each other down. His boss was right.

"And if he is still alive Merriam?" he asked softly, turning his head to look back out the window to the East.

The brunet woman, her features hard from years of politics and the stress that came with responsibility, allowed herself a feisty smirk, "Then we'll show them Poles the true American spirit. Right Alfred?"

He smirked back softly, "Yes Ma'am. But may I take a group to Okhostk? If he survived the blast, he'll be badly injured. In know because of - . . ."

"Alright," she conceded, "And bring him back, dead or alive."

* * *

It was dark, the air buzzed with unnatural electricity. He knew that buzz, him and Ukraine. Radiation. He tried to stand, but a sudden rip of agony shot through his torso as he tried to balance on his hands and knees. A sickening feeling churned in his gut as he suddenly released his stomach contents and blood from his mouth. This must have been how Katyusha felt after Chernobyl: sick, feverish, and helplessly weak. But she didn't have a soccer ball sized wound gaping open where his diaphragm was, gushing blood over his torso as well as the surrounding foundation.

He felt the warm copper in his throat and mouth. He wanted to just lay there in the red warmth. But he needed to move, to make his presence known to anyone viewing the area. As it was, he could hear a helicopter over head. Ignoring his body screaming and punishing him, he struggled to his hands and knees, spitting up blood from his mouth and listening as his life splashed sickeningly against the ground.

* * *

Belarus stared at the television, her eyes the size of dish plates. Okhostk had been bombed and live footage from a helicopter displayed the remains to the world. Apparently, a rebel alliance was being formed in the city and Japan had sent a nuclear missile under the name of _Poland_ to break it up. There was also rumor that a very important government official from the warring country of Russia was there.

"_The information that the Polish government was willing to release to the media was that this official's name was Ivan Braginski,"_ the newscaster spoke with little to no emotion.

Natalia jumped to her feet and stormed to her boss's office. Even if she wasn't a part of this war, she could still send aid to any survivors. And like hell was she going to take '_no_' for an answer.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter is short because there wasn't much to really do. I don't want to go too deep into the story, but this was a tiny little segment. The next one is the big race to Okhostk. Yay! Review please~ And I may even upload it later tonight or tomorrow. Peace!**


	6. The Race

**A/N: A lil note to I: I added "Radiation suits" because of the fall out. So, yeah. And the helicopter is remote controlled so no one is actually there in the helicopter. So, yes, fall out will stay, people are protected, and you don't need to act like a smartass. *smiles* You didn't point out anything that wasn't already implied. I would think it would be common sense, it is kind of a "No-dur" situation genius.**

* * *

The light. He needed to reach the light. He could see the dark gray of the sky, but, by god, it was lighter then this place. Everything smelled of fire. Of burning. Of Death. He almost smiled at how familiar the smell was, but the agony racking his entire body. He needed to reach the surface, focus on the light. Ignore the anguish and the dead bodies of the representatives. He dragged himself up the remains of the building and forced his writhing body farther. He could hear the helicopter, much louder. He struggled to the light. It was small, a recon machine used to enter dangerous zones. A camera was attached, but it was obviously too small to hold actual people. Remote controlled.

* * *

Poland watched the live footage scrutinizing. Was that a bit of movement? His eyes widened as he saw a hand protrude from the wreckage of a building that had the majority of it constructed underground. The hand had a glove that was scorched, revealing bits and pieces of a pale hand, crimson staining the white.

"_It appears the recon droid has miraculously found a survivor!"_ the news anchor flipped out. He voice became slightly distant as she pulled the microphone away from herself, _"Make that camera zoom in! NOW!"_

After a moment's delay, the screen focused on the shaky hands, now that the partner had joined the first. The blonde nipped at his thumb in anticipation. It _had_ to be Ivan. He would be the only one to live through that. As if to affirm his reasoning, ashy white hair colored the darkness. It was stained a dark red in blood. His face appeared not too long after, also ensanguine. His right eye was damaged from the blast, streaking its own trail of scarlet tears down the sickly pale cheek and meeting with the blood from the corner of his mouth.

"_The survivor is extensively injured and- Oh my god! Oh . . . God . . ."_ she began repeating in utter shock. Feliks couldn't blame the woman.

The Russian's entire torso was secreting blood like sweat, a gaping wound spurting the red liquid. A feeling on nausea overcame the Pole as he wretched his lunch into the wastebasket.

* * *

"Liet!" Feliks called, taking the stairs slowly as to spare his stomach. The brunet was in the kitchen and jumped visibly at the sudden demand of his attention. The two hadn't been speaking since the fighting had started.

"Y-yes Poland?"

"I want you to send a team of people to Okhostk. You'll need radiation suits."

"What happened there?" Toris asked, worried.

"Japan totally nuked the place to keep the rebels from, like, making a union with Russia. Right now, I, like, totally want your people to go and pick that traitor up and bring him back here," the queasy feeling came back momentarily, "I'll warn ya though, he looks like total shit."

"A-Alright Poland." The blonde disappeared back up the stairs as a sinking feeling hit the Lithuanian. He hurt Ivan, indirectly. The actions disgusted him; Feliks was using others to dirty their hands for him. Even Russia didn't do that back then. Screw _sending_ a team, Toris was going to Okhostk himself!

* * *

Alfred sat on the airplane with his small team of five, watching the news broadcast on his cell phone. He felt sick, and angry. Beyond angry. He was furious! Poland was going to pay! "How much longer is this fucking trip gonna take!" he demanded.

"Another hour sir!"

God damnit.

* * *

Belarus was on her own way to the site. Her airplane was about an hour as well, praying for her brother to be alright. She needed to save him, she'd keep him safe and they would be happy together, and Poland would never _ever_ hurt him again!

"I'm coming Vanya."

* * *

The images were too much. All Gilbert could see was the small child he had taken care of with blood drenching him. He saw the child dying, crying, and pleading for help that he couldn't give because a giant fence of metal bars kept them separated. He buried his face in his hands and let the tears loose reluctantly. If only he could hold him and tell him everything would be alright and that he could heal him and keep him safe like he did before.

The little yellow bird on the chair's arm chirped sadly, sharing his master's pain.

* * *

Japan couldn't help the smirk that played on his lips at the pathetic sight of Russia-san. It was amazing that he was able to move. The camera was one from his country, made specifically to enter areas of high radiation and not have the unnatural waves interfere with the interfacing, as well as the long distance scouting helicopter. It was made, primarily, for war zones, but this was a very amusing use. Yet he could see the pure hatred the violet eyes shot through the camera, as though knowing he was watching.

It sent shivers up his spine that weren't all that unwelcome.

"_This just in,"_ the anchor woman announced, still trying to act composed and put together. By this time, the helicopter was viewing the rest of the damage of the city since the government would find the gruesome images of Russia too much for the masses. _"It has been reported that transports from America, Belarus, and the Polish Empire have been dispatched to the area."_

The smirk faded. America was hell-bent on his childish mission. A frown deepened into his flawless features. Maybe America-kun did need a bit of punishment, but not one as harsh as Russia. No, but one that would get the point across.

* * *

Alfred thought deeply after the announcement. Belarus was neutral, but this was her brother. Poland just wanted to grab Russia for himself, and Alfred needed to get there before him. The one issue was, at the rate the news said they left and were traveling; they would reach Okhostk at the same time. Now it was a race to the city to beat the enemy, and a race against time. Even as countries, radiation weakened them, the longer they stayed in the field. At this point, he could even die. But there was _one_ plus in the situation: because Russia was injured, not from the blast but from the impact and damage to the land, it proved that the land was still _Russian_.

And so the race began drawing to a close.

* * *

**A/N: I'll leave it there for now. Hope you enjoyed. I'm not in a good mood today, my family is being a pain in the arse and I don't really need smartass comments added. I am sorry if I sound harsh, but I'm not taking it back. Just pretend I'm not so bitchy, okay? *sighs* Please tell me what you think. This **_**is**_** in the future, so yay. I can get away with this shit. ^^ I'll have the next ch. Soon. Love ya all. Again, forgive my bitchiness. ToT**


	7. And I will

Alfred ran through the decimated city in his radiation suit, colored a shade of gray for blending purposes. His squad followed behind him at a distance due to the weight of the suits that the country was oblivious to. Though to where he was going he didn't know exactly. Did he want to find Belarus first so the could set up a perimeter and safely escort Ivan out of the area? Or maybe he should find Russia first. The latter was one he wanted to pull at more. The image of Ivan, blood covering him head to toe, was engraved in his memory.

On a whim, America decided to find his ally and pray to meet up with Belarus at some point. He was only a recon squad. They only had basic medical supplies, not enough for the injuries he had witnessed through the broadcast before the company cut off the live feed. Belarus most likely had better medical equipment . . . or so he hoped. After almost an hour, he was beginning to see recognizable rubble, which meant they must be getting close. Walking ahead, Alfred was going to make a mad dash to the building until a gun cocked off to his right from the cover of the debris.

A man, roughly in his late thirties, dressed in a black radiation suit with the Belarusian flag on the sleeve. He spoke his mother tongue, something Alfred wasn't fluent in. He held his hands up in a surrender position as the gun leveled with his head. Nervously, he licked his lips. What if Natalya had something against his coming? He slowly patted his chest. This was going to be a bit embarrassing. "A-Alfred. Friend . . . Natalya. Natalya?"

The man watched him carefully, but his eyes lit up at the name of the female country. He slowly tapped an internal radio and began talking in rapid Belarusian. A moment passed where Alfred prayed that Natalya wouldn't order his capture. The conversation ended, but the gun didn't drop. This, consequently, put a sinking motion into the American's gut. Luckily, the rest of his team had separated from when he stopped. They weren't to engage unless hostility became physical. Rule number one.

"What are _you_ doing here America?"

The gun dropped and the man saluted before moving away. Alfred turned to be met with Natalya's disdainful glare, but it was at a much lesser degree since he was helping her Vanya. Still, her hands grasped her thin waist through her radiation suit.

"Isn't it obvious?" Alfred announced, shoving a thumb at himself, "I came to get Ivan and take him back to America and patch him up."

"_Neyt_, not happening America. My men are doing what they can right now, but we don't have enough. I left as soon as possible, not taking the time to wait for a chance update of Vanya. I didn't bring the heavy duty medical supplies you need. And with Poland on the way, I'm worried," she allowed her emotions to seep through a bit, her hands clasping and unclasping nervously, "And I want to get him out of the radiation as soon as possible, but moving him is dangerous in his state. Even while being a country."

As the hero should, America placed a firm hand on Belarus' shoulder, shooting her his _'It'll be alright'_ smile, "I got ya, I'll see what my guys can do." Turning from her out of his still-strong Cold War habit, he tapped his radio and contacted the rest of his team, "We've come across Belarus' team. They are tending to Russia as we speak. I want you guys to all form up on me and we'll head over to the site. Understood?"

"_Copy that sir, we're coming,"_ an elder voice crackled from the other end. After a good five minutes, all the Americans had arrived and they made their way to the treatment area.

In the cover of a forest of debris, Belarus' people had found a large slab on its side, a good use for a table. On it was Ivan, who looked even worse than Alfred remembered. He still had that giant wound in his chest; a man who must have been a doctor was just beginning to sew it up. He had gauze and a white bandage strapped around his head to keep his right eye from infection. Even though it couldn't have been on for more than a half hour, red was seeping through the wrapping. His skin had severe burns that were scorched and some blistering, and many open wounds, some going black; not a good sign. A bit of dried blood trailed from his ears, obviously from the blast. His left wrist was in a tight cast, and the matching thigh was exposed to remove shrapnel. His scarf was gone, missing somewhere in the dark of the nearby hole. While his skin had once been smooth and soft, it was now cut and scarring. In short, he looked like shit.

At this moment, America would go over to his ally and lightly touch his hair and face, telling him it would be all right. Sadly, his ally's marriage-obsessed little sister was there, so no touching allowed. He didn't want to get into a domestic quarrel . . . no matter how wrong her want to marry her own brother was.

"So can we move him once he's all sewn up?" Alfred asked watching intently.

The platinum blonde girl shook her head, "I wouldn't want to move him. He's lost too much blood and in very much pain. Also, he'd need to go into a chamber to cleanse his body of the radioactivity, not counting the internal damage due to the toxicity. Sadly, we don't have one of those chambers. Do you?" He shook his head. He had hoped that Ivan wouldn't have gotten so injured and could have slipped into a radioactive suit.

Alfred frowned before nodding over to one of his men, a doctor from his own country who took out a small rod. This was to burn the arteries to keep the person from bleeding out, this one happened to run on batteries. His scientists had perfected this machine back in the 2000s, but they were never put into much use due to the high popularity of blood. After scientists had proven that the host's blood reacted to the donor's as it would a pathogen, the use of it was discontinued. Mostly from the death rate due to denaturation of the proteins during the fever. It turned many people off from donating when children died because of it. Now in wide use around America and Western Europe, it was a standard machine placed in every first aid kit.

The man moved forward and inspected Russia's leg. The shrapnel had cut into a major artery which was still pooling blood under heavy wrappings. He slowly undid the red bandages and revealed the gaping wound. With a soft flick of his wrist, the bleeding stopped. It would still need to be bandaged, but the issue of blood loss wasn't going to get any worse. This was only a quick fix. He'd need proper medical attention so as not to lose his leg. Even as a country, that was a possibility. Amputation wasn't a very positive outlook, now was it. A sudden sound of fumbling feet made everyone turn besides the two doctors who were too focused in their work.

A military green suit came into view with the flag of the Polish Empire on the sleeve. Guns raised before Alfred recognized the wavey brown hair. He lowered his hand to signal them to put their guns down. While the Americans complied, Belarus wouldn't. With a sigh he walked over to Lithuania.

"Liet, what are you doing here?" Alfred asked casually.

"America, you don't need to play coy. I saw the news after Liet told me to assemble a team to come here. He needs help," Toris asserted, "And I just heard your little predicament. Luckily, I brought a detoxifying chamber. And my entire team is composed of Russian sympathizers, so I have no worry about Poland."

A pregnant silence stretched between the two before Alfred finally allowed a broad grin to stretch across his face. He slapped a hand on Lithuania's back, "Good man Liet. I knew we could trust ya!" He looked back at the platinum blonde girl who reluctantly dropped the muzzle of her gun and rolled her eyes. The American was simply too trusting.

With that, Lithuania made a motion and two men carrying a rounded capsule. When Alfred had first seen the machines from Germany, he had been bouncing off the walls with glee thinking they were meant for light speed. Once being informed that the machine was meant for detoxifying a subject from radiation instead of keeping the effects of time at bay, it kind of put him out. Now he was glad for the use a little bit more. The two doctors had finished stitching Ivan up and were covering him with a blanket for transportation.

"I'll take him. I have very little to worry about Poland while the two of you are his next door neighbors," Alfred asserted while watching the Russian being placed in the carrier. His tone made a wall between him and the other two. It wasn't playful, but forceful and unyielding. Still, the two nodded silently. It was, by all accounts, safer to leave the warring country with his ally out of enemy reach.

"And you should probably take this with you. He'd be so depressed without it." Toris placed the scarf into Alfred's had, who smiled and folded it in his arms, silently glad it wasn't too damaged from the blast. Mostly, it just had blood splatter. The chamber was being moved and they followed behind as he was taken to the American transport and they said their farewells. Alfred leaving a note that Belarus shouldn't break Lithuania's fingers before jumping into the transport and heading off.

* * *

He watched Ivan's face on the way back. He looked peaceful . . . he hated that peaceful look. Even though so many people felt relief at the thought of a peaceful death, no death was free of pain. Even if the corpse felt no pain, someone would be racked with the agony. He knew it would be him if he were to lose Ivan again. If only he could know what was going through the other's mind, if anything at all.

* * *

_This had all happened before. It had happened repeatedly. Not once, or twice, or even three times, it had gone on forever. He didn't know when it started, but all the events led back to here. Always. He would live through the anguish and make a complete recovery, no worries of that. But he should have been in more pain. Small technicalities however. He was moved and placed somewhere stable before it heaved and traveled away from the dead city. It was just as before, like a broken movie that refused to reach the end. He was with America, heading back to D.C. to get medical attention that would save his leg and he'd be scarred until the end with the gnarled wounds in his chest and neck. Never would he show his neck again._

_Then, while he was healing . . . the two would be in Kansas and Alfred would go through a wave of pain because – . . . – His boss – . . . – The blood –._

* * *

His eyes shot open, startling the blonde sitting beside him at the bedside. Confused, Ivan looked down himself. A nervous laugh came from America who rubbed the back of his head, "I brought you back to D.C. as soon as possible. Don't worry, you're fine."

Ivan looked the blonde up and down, he looked fine. Now wasn't the time, "I know."

"Eh? Really? Uh . . . well . . . you'll be out of action for a bit, ya know. I was thinking . . ."

* * *

'_Want to relax somewhere? Perhaps we can go to Kansas and see the sunflowers again.'_

* * *

"Want to relax somewhere? Perhaps we can go back to Kansas and see the sunflowers again. You'd like that, right?"

* * *

'_And I say yes . . . and he'll . . .'_

* * *

"A-Alfred," he stuttered, looking to his hands, "I-I . . ." He sighed defeated, not knowing what else he could do, "I would enjoy that very much . . . but what of your boss?"

Alfred blinked confused, "She'll be here working out the political stuff. Why are you worried about her?"

* * *

'_The explosion will hurt you . . . her death will crush you . . . you'll leave me . . .'_

* * *

"No reason."

* * *

**A/N: That one was pretty nice. I like Ivan's part so much more. This'll get a little trippy! BEWARE! XD Hope you enjoyed. Review! NO I WILL NOT SPOIL IT FOR YOU! ^^**


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